


Stilinski Orphanage

by pineneedlepants



Series: Halloween fics [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Alpha Derek, Asexual Derek, Dark John Stilinski, Dark Stiles, Fluff, Happy Ending, Kate gets what's coming for her, M/M, Murder Husbands, No Sex, Orphan Derek, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Stiles is older than Derek, Vampire Stiles Stilinski, Warning: Kate Argent, halloween fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 18:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8295691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineneedlepants/pseuds/pineneedlepants
Summary: Throughout the short months Derek has been spending at the Stilinski Orphanage, he's come to a few conclusions. One, for the Stilinski's, bullying is a zero tolerance thing. There are hundreds of kids staying under their roof and they want things to be peaceful.Of course, with that many children in one place, with different backgrounds and ethnicities, not everyone follows this rule. The thing is that because the Stilinski Orphanage is actually very popular and well respected, kids circle in and out in a decently fast cycle. Enforcing the strict no bullying rule isn't always as effective, and so sometimes, these bullies get called to the headmaster's office and then transferred to another orphanage, in a place that's far, far away from Beacon Hills.Except Derek knows better. He's pretty sure the Stilinskis eat the 'transferred' bullies. Not that he really cares.--Happy Early Halloween!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!

 

Recently Derek's been spending his time in the library. It's quiet, and he's surrounded by hundred of books, the dust only sometimes making his sensitive nose sneeze. There are reading nooks and sofa pits, a children's section with cushions shaped like puzzle pieces.

The library is slightly muted, even to enhanced hearing, which allows Derek to rest his ears every now and then. He rooms with Erica, Boyd and Isaac, three humans that came in at the same time, allowing them to hunker against each other, take and offer comfort. Erica is loud and foul mouthed, trying to hide her illness and weaknesses behind a bravado. Isaac is quiet, flinching at every too loud sound and hastily raised arms, but in the privacy of their shared room, he's sarcastic and has a good sense of humour. Boyd is the most quiet of them, solid and seemingly cold, but his heart is soft and vulnerable, taking time to sit down with kids younger than him, sometimes reading to them.

Down the hall of their room is a nursery though, and the babies keep waking Derek up during the night when his room companions sleep ignorantly. So even if he likes the three teens well enough, all of them quiet in their own ways, the kids screaming bloody murder day in and out keep him awake and restless. Sometimes he hates his enhanced hearing.

He's been at the Stilinski Orphanage for six months now. Before that, just barely days before his fifteenth birthday, Derek's family was murdered, burned to the ground by hunters. He and his sister Laura fled, grief stricken kids with Laura as an alpha. Instincts had taken them over, and they had spent four weeks as wolves, running for their lives before the hunters caught up with them.

They immediately killed Laura, her powers transferring to Derek. He fought with all he had, with claws and teeth and wolf, but in the end, Kate won. Drugged him up with a 'See you soon sweetheart. _Behave_.' and tossed him in the trunk of her car.

She tortured him for over a year.

He still flinches at the memories, phantom touches against his skin, revolt shuddering through his body. He clenches at the book in his hands.

An hour passes. He's in the middle of reading a book about a human alpha, the novel a detective story with a twist of supernatural. He likes it. The werewolf companion the human has is much like him, quiet and grumpy, with an aching need to be touched and loved. To have pack close. The wolf's mate is the human, but the wolf doesn't want sex. Good. Derek doesn't either. A small grin starts to ghost his face, but he tampers is down.

He gets a word for the feeling after a few chapters. Asexual. Putting the book down, carefully bookmarking it first, he goes to search on the small health section. There are medical books, as well as school books on mental health. Different section for genders and identities, before he spots the 'ABC of sexuality' and grabs it.

Before he gets a chance to leaf it through, Stiles comes bouncing down the rows of bookshelves.

Stiles he has mixed feelings about. The teen is nineteen to Derek's shy of seventeen, and he's bubbly and carefree to Derek's miserable and caged. That, and he's also a vampire, the son of John Stilinski.

When Derek had escaped the Argent base ground, he ran away as fast as he could. Alllison Argent, the daughter of Chris who's sister Kate was, helped him escape. Between Kate's and her goon's visits, Allison would sometimes sneak down to the cellar. She'd feed him actual food, talk to him gently about this and that, offer him ways to cover his body while she was down there with him. She never looked at Derek with pity, but with determination to help.

It took him four months to start trusting Allison, and after that, they spent the rest of the time carefully planning his freeing. Allison cried sometimes, when Derek was too bloodied and hurt to even talk or raise to his feet. She'd hold him then, whisper sweet nothings to his ear. She had been kind, even going as far as showering thoroughly before meeting him so she wouldn't smell like aconite around him.

Then on that fateful night of Derek's hard earned freedom, she hugged him, offered him clothes and food to help him on his journey, offering three hundred bucks in cash. ''Just in case,'' she had said, forcing the wat of bills in his hand. ''Just in case. Be safe.''

And then he had fled.

He wandered for a couple months, before his cash run out and his shoes were all worn. Accidentally crashing a werewolf wedding hadn't been in his plans, but that he did. They were kind. Offered him a place to stay for the night as well as a name and a street address.

''Find John Stilinski in Beacon Hills. He protects all children, supernatural or not. Find him, and you'll get back on your feet in no time.''

Doing just that, he ended up on the doorstep of Stilinski Orphanage. It had been raining, a cliche weather for a lost child to find safety, drenched and looking for all intents and purposes, like a drowned, wet dog. Stiles had been the one to open the double entrance doors, his skin almost glowing in the darkness. The warmth that had seeped from inside the huge mansion, doubled with Stiles' gentle and welcoming expression had Derek just utter a small and scared, ''Hi,'' before passing out.

And the rest is history.

''Derek! Whatcha doing?''

Scowling, Derek tried to hide the book behind his back. ''Nothing,'' he says, refusing to look Stiles in the eyes. Never mind that Stiles is a vampire, but there's something intuitive about the man, his gaze piercing and inherently curious. Vampires don't have enhanced hearing or smell, but their eyes are sharp and they are inhumanely strong and agile. Intellect too. When a werewolf fights, they fight with power and straightforwardness of their instincts and claws, whereas vampires tend to spend time planning the attack like a good game of chess, using everything in their capabilities to defeat their enemies. If it meant hiring someone to do the job for you, then who were they to argue? As long as things got done, they didn't care how the issue was resolved.

''Oh-ho. Are you hiding things from me, man? Are you reading _porn_? Is that why you're blushing? Or no, wait, maybe it's one of those romantic and cheesy novels I know you hide under your pillow,'' Stiles says, almost glittering in amusement.

Derek rolls his eyes. ''Go away.''

Huffing, Stiles says, ''Rude.'' The vampire darts quickly, forcing Derek to turn around so he can catch the book he's holding. He makes a triumphant sound as he holds the book above his head.

''Stiles!'' Derek lunges, desperately trying to get the book, but Stiles is small and agile and manages to dodge.

''Too late! It's mine now!'' He laughs, and runs to one of the more secluded corners of the library. Derek has no choice but to follow, embarrassed and angry. He has no idea why he's having such a big crush on the guy when all he ever does is mischief.

''Give it _back_. Oh my _God_ , Stiles, just fucking give it _back_ \- ''

Before he can do anything, Stiles has rounded the corner and flattened himself against one of the sofas. His gleeful expression dims though, when he reads the title.

''Sexual identity?''

Derek shrugs, uncomfortable. He's 99% certain that Stiles doesn't know he's a werewolf and knows that Stiles' heart only beats after he's fed. But there are other factors, like scent, that betray Stiles' concern and anxiety. There's a mask that slips on the vampire's face then, his tone flippant, but body language telling Derek he's anything but.

''Aw, you forming a crush on me, big guy? It's okay, my dad already knows his son is gay. I wouldn't have bet you to be, but then again, who am I to say anything? Dad told me I can't be gay because of the way I dress,'' he snorts.

Seeing Derek's discomfort, Stiles sits up and sobers. ''I'm sorry,'' he says, pushing the book back in Derek's direction. ''I'm an asshole. But I'm not big enough of a douche to hurt you over this. So. Sorry. And,'' he adds, when Derek reaches to take the object. ''If you have questions, are unsure or just want someone to talk to, my room is always open for you. I mean it, Derek.''

Shame fills Derek's cheeks when he listens to Stiles rant, but he lifts his gaze to Stiles' when the vampire says his name. ''I mean it,'' Stiles prompts. ''Any time.''

Derek nods, and Stiles finally lets go of the book. Stiles stands up and opens his arms. When Derek gives him a dubious look, the man rolls his eyes. ''Come on. Stilinski men hug it out.''

After a few second hesitation, Derek leans in to the embrace. Stiles makes a contented sound, the arms tightening comfortably around Derek's shoulders. It's still odd to not hear Stiles' heartbeat, but Derek thinks he could get used to it. Especially if he ever gets to properly have Stiles in his arms after the vampire has fed, and his body is warm, cheeks flushed and blood pumping throughout his heart.

When Stiles leaves, giving him a look, Derek quickly leafs through the book. The section on asexuality is minimal and a little bit at odds with how Derek feels, but in the end, it doesn't matter.

Who's gonna take a broken man anyway? Scars littering throughout his body like the remains of an invaded village. Surely people would find his body hideous, and his mind boring and unattractive, surly and unapproachable.

He's fine.

 

\--

 

Stiles makes a point to talk about LGBT stuff now whenever Derek's around, and he's part grateful and part annoyed. He kind of wants to shut the vampire up with a kiss, but his experience in kissing only reaches what he had done with Kate, and that felt like nothing kissing on TV looks like.

Erica teases him about his obvious attachment to Stiles, but it's kind and good natured. He likes her well enough not to let it get to him. Isaac just snorts that Stiles has have the hots for Derek ever since he came around, and if Derek's so oblivious of the lingering looks and prolonged touching, then he's an idiot.

 

\--

 

Derek leaves the 'ABC of sexuality' book open on the asexual part when he hears Stiles approaching the library and then he flees.

The knowing look Stiles shoots him the next time they see each other makes him deflate in relief. The vampire hugs him sideways for longer than usual that night, and Derek goes to bed feeling oddly giddy.

 

\--

 

The new kid, Jackson-what's-his-face has been making too much of an spectacle of himself. He's obnoxious and arrogant, and absolutely a nightmare to get along with. The human uses too much cologne, his hair plastered against his skull with so much hair gel that Derek wonders how he ever gets it clean. Jackson can't be too much younger than Derek himself, and he wonders how the kid even ended up in an orphanage. Clearly he's got a high education, which he brags about every single time someone gives him the time of the day. The kids mostly avoid him though.

Jackson is too much like a high school jock, pompous with such deeply seeped selfishness that even a black hole can't be that deep. There's a dark glint in Stiles' eyes though. It both makes Derek want to sit up and pay attention as much as it does make him want to duck and hide. Every time Jackson opens his eyes, Derek swears he can see the flicker of black oozing into Stiles' eyes. The vampire is almost salivating whenever the kid is around, Stiles' eyes calculating and malicious. Derek's wolf loves that. The way Stiles is assertive, dominating and ready to tear a bitch makes it tags its tail in excitement. It sees the vampire as a great potential mate, and Derek has to suffocate his powerful instincts, lest they demand immediate matrimony.

By Derek's estimate, the Stilinski's feast about once a month. He calculates these by the beats of Stiles' heart, and being the undead that he is, his heart only awakens with fresh blood that he ingests from his victims. Jackson's only been at the orphanage less than a week and he's already got himself on Stiles' grocery list. Poor guy.

Mostly Derek tries to avoid Jackson. He manages it fairly well too, since his enhanced hearing allows him to know whenever the human is approaching. He's fled rooms more often than not, because for some reason, the kid has fixated himself on Derek.

God only knows why.

The people at the orphanage have scheduled meal times, the younger kids eating first, and then the middle schoolers, and then the teenagers. The dining room is big enough to host fifty people at once. Though if you were hungry, the workers in the kitchen usually gave snacks and goodies if you asked politely.

The only times Derek has to stand Jackson is during meals, and even then he has Stiles by his side more often than not. Stiles, being the son of the headmaster, is enough of a incentive for Jackson not to start spouting bullshit at Derek. But if the human manages to catch Derek outside Stiles' hearing range? Bully. That's all the kid was. A self-entitled, old school bully. Shoving at Derek, hurling insults to his person, hiding his stuff, trying to make him trip. It's like the kid wants to get slaughtered for vampire meal.

In the end, it all comes to head a week later. During the brief times together, Jackson has figured out some of Derek's vulnerabilities. How he ever figured it out, Derek may never know, but somehow the douchebag realized that Derek absolutely cannot stand people touching his stomach with too much intent. He flinches away from the prying fingers, scowling and covering his stomach.

Stiles has roped Derek into playing softball with some of the other teenagers, and after an hour of good, solid exercise, they're all sweating and panting. Derek collapses on the ground with a groan, for once feeling close to content as he ever will these days. His limbs are all splayed out, t-shirt rucked up to expose a little bit of his belly, and he covers his eyes from the harsh sunlight.

It all happens so fast Derek's not sure how the fuck he had lowered his defenses so much as to let Jackson close enough to touch without noticing. As it is, he doesn't, not until it's far too late. He grunts when a weight straddles his hips, and squints from under his forearm to see Jackson sitting on top of him. Internally he panics, but he keeps a cool mask on. He's learned from Kate to never let the bad guys see how you really feel. It took him a long time, painful lessons that he still tries to claw his way out from.

Jackson scent is murky with what Derek can only identify as malicious.

''Let's see those steel abs of yours that Stilinski fag is lusting after for,'' the human grins ferally, and yanks Derek's shirt further up. He goes from having his belly slightly in the open, to his front being exposed all the way to the chest. Then, the whole world seems to freeze when Jackson does.

All around his body there are scars of different colour. Some of them are pink, jagged little things that run up and down in a fairly straight line. One of the longest one spans from the top of his shoulder, through his collarbone and down to his thigh. Then there are the darker ones, the ones that Derek remembers were made with a saw and wolfsbane, on both sides of his body. It looks like something had exploded in his near vicinity, like sharp metal pieces could still be found underneath Derek's skin. The smallest, white lined scars are on his lower belly. It was Kate's thing to run her fingernails down it roughly, making him bleed when she raped him over and over. Mimicking the movement, she had once decided to brand her signature move on Derek's skin forever, using small newly-sharpened knives dipped in aconite.

Then of course, there is the Argent crest. Kate burned it in the middle of his chest, an ugly mass of marred skin. He remembers the agonizing pain it brought him, the wound not closing for months, weeping with blood and pus. Kate loved to slice it open over and over, cooing at him and laughing when he howled his voice off.

Jackson gives a faint 'what the hell' before raking his fingers down Derek's stomach just the way Kate used to.

He's not sure what happens next. The pompous idiot squawks, and the weight of him is lifted off of Derek's hips. Derek is too dazed to notice though, Kate's fake saccharine voice cooing at him. 'Aww, are you crying? The big old alpha is crying? Jesus, how useless. Let's see if we can make you scream, hm, sweeheart? Wouldn't that be nice? And then, if you're a good boy for me and scream and scream and _scream_ , I'll make you feel _so_ good.'

He hastily covers his vulnerable tummy, bile rising into his throat. Curling in on himself, he shudders, and when Kate's phantom touch sweeps over his bottom, he throws up. Lungs feeling like they're filled with ice water, heavy and uncooperative. Distantly, he can hear someone wheezing for breath, throat gurgling with liquid filling it, and Derek thinks hazily, _'You and me both, buddy'._ When he can't seem to catch a breath, darkness starts to creep from the edges of his vision. He welcomes it.

The last thing he remembers is Stiles' frantic voice calling his name, He cradles the warm words, letting them wash over him and sweep him into blissful nothingness.

 

\--

 

Waking up to someone holding your hand has become Derek's favourite thing to fight off slumber to. Allison did it a lot for him, but it's a million times better when it's Stiles' death grip that greets him into consciousness. The vampire is muttering something under his breath. He's tapping something that Derek immediately identifies as Stiles' cellphone without even seeing the device. The constant tap-tap-tap turns more violent, before Stiles lets out a breath and start over. He repeats it a couple times. It amuses Derek a hell of a lot.

A small part of him figures out that he can't hear the vampire's heartbeat, so he hasn't eaten Jackson yet. And how crazy is it that Derek feels a little disappointed at that?

Something must give him away eventually, because the tapping stops.

''Derek?''

He grunts in affirmative and fights with inertia to open his eyes. When he blinks, he's greeted with Stiles' worried face inches form his own, hoovering. When their gazes meet, Stiles lets out a huge sigh that comes from deep within his chest.

''Thank God.'' Stiles slumps against Derek's side, and speaks into the comforter that Derek's wrapped under. ''You okay?''

He nods tiredly. ''Yeah,'' he croaks, and lets out a sigh of his own. Stiles' head pops up and he gives out a hesitant grin. Now that he's a little more aware, he recognizes Stiles' bedroom. If his scent hadn't given the vampire away, all the posters of Doctor Who and Batman would've clued Derek in on quick enough. He's about to ask why he's in there, because what the hell, but Stiles, as always, beats him to the punch.

''Your room is right next to that douchebag. _No_ _way_ am I gonna let him anywhere near you again. _Ever_. I swear to God I'm gonna kick his sorry ass out myself if Dad doesn't approve of the transfer soon enough.''

Oh. Well. Derek hopes Jackson's death will be slow and painful. Maybe he should suggest that they hack the prick's dick off first, while he's still alive and kicking. That'll teach him consent for all five minutes before he's feasted on. But then again, Stiles has a lot more vast imagination, so Derek probably doesn't have to worry about it.

Stiles' expression softens, and he reaches to card the soft strands of hair off of his forehead in an uncharacteristic act of gentleness. The dark swirls of Stiles' eyes have tampered down, and he looks kind and empathetic. Derek can't help but lean into the touch. He wonders if this Stiles would be the kind that Derek would see every day if they were more than friends. If he claimed the vampire, accepting the faith that their hearts have already started to carve into the future.

But as always, Derek's insecurities bubble onto surface. He shuts his eyes against the prick of tears that threaten to fall, and Stiles hushes him gently. ''I'll protect you,'' he murmurs, and grabs both of Derek's hands to intertwine their fingers. ''I swear to all that's precious to me that I will protect you Derek. I -''

''There's not much left to protect,'' Derek whispers, and something akin to grief twists Stiles' features.

''I won't fail you,'' Stiles says. He says it with so much certainty, possessiveness that's more of a wolf than vampire, that it reassures Derek more than he could've thought. He relaxes, tightly coiled muscles going slump. He nods. ''I'll protect you too,'' he offers, and Stiles beams at him.

Maybe seven months knowing each other is good enough to start something new, something deeper.

Derek hopes he's ready.

 

\--

 

Derek doesn't see Stiles after that for the next 48 hours. To say that he's confused and hurt is an understatement. He figures if he stays in his room long enough, maybe he can barricade himself in and hurl books at Stiles should the vampire come crawling back.

Stupid, idiot dumbass vampire. Of course he wouldn't want Derek after all. But how unfair is it that the guy led him on with promises of protection and safety, and then decides to not show his face ever again.

There are easier ways to break Derek's heart.

 

\--

 

A few days after Jackson has revealed Derek's scars, Stiles finally makes an appearance. He has no idea why or where the vampire had fucked off to, but he has an inkling that it has everything to do with him.

And Derek is fucking pissed.

So what if he's not the perfect Greek God everyone always says he is underneath his clothes. So what if his body is ugly, skin painted with violence that crawls every inch of him. That doesn't make it fair for Stiles to declare he's always gonna be on Derek's side and then avoid him in the most blatant, obvious ways that has even Boyd raise his eyebrows judgmentally.

Fucking vampires.

Stiles slinks into the room, his expression sheepish. Derek side-eyes him, but continues to read on his bed, ignoring the man. Sullenly Derek thinks that how suspiciously scarce his roommates have made themselves, when usually the trio prefers to stay in. Traitors, all of them.

He turns the page he's only half read through. The hurt and irritation he's felt the past two days bubbles to the surface, and his lips turn down involuntarily.

''Heey, Derek.''

He shifts his position a little and continues to ignore Stiles. If he wants to talk to him, Stiles is gonna have to seriously work for it. Stiles' avoidance wasn't even subtle. Every single time he saw Derek in the same corridor, he'd turn around and start speeding back to where he was coming from. He'd skipped meal times, ignored their pre-made plans of watching Game of Thrones together and never responded to any of Derek's calls or texts. Not even a reassuring, 'We're okay, I just need time for myself to get over your hideous body. Thanks.' Even that would've sufficed.

''Dude, Derek?''

Tsking, he snarls, ''What do you want?''

''Uhhh, to hang out?'' Stiles says dubiously.

Derek grits his teeth. ''Do you _really?''_

Exasperatedly, the vampire throws his hands up. ''Yes! I wouldn't be here if I didn't, now would I?''

''Well,'' Derek bites out, ''You certainly made yourself clear when you didn't show up the day before to out usual tv-show binge, even though you promised. And then you made the disappearance act again yesterday when we were supposed to read to the kids together. Never mind your painfully obvious change of direction when you spotted me down the hall. Or the never answered calls and texts I sent you. So maybe, just _maybe_ , I don't want to hang out with you. Ever thought about that, huh?''

Stiles' expression has twisted into a grimace. His hands are held behind his back, shoulder hunched. If he was a puppy, he'd have his tail tucked between his legs and ears pressed against his skull. As things are, he's actually a pretty powerful vampire, and the kicked puppy look isn't wavering Derek's resolve. At all.

Damn it.

Look,'' Stiles starts softly, ''I was angry. I still am angry. You've hidden your past behind the protective layer of your clothes, and that's okay. But it was supposed to be your decision whether or not to reveal it. Instead, the choice was taken from you, and just. I'm insanely curious. Morbidly so. So I was afraid I was gonna push you too far, or that I was gonna see that hurt look on your face and get angry again, on your behalf. I wanted to fucking obliterate Jackson when he made you have a panic attack, okay? I didn't wanna stress you out more than you were already and. . .''

Stiles comes to sit at Derek's feet. He sighs. ''I really am sorry. I avoided you selfishly because I couldn't handle my own feelings towards your hurt. And I didn't think how my disappearance would actually affect you. So.''

Derek scowls. ''You could've at least texted. Let me know you weren't coming so I wouldn't have waited for you for _hours_ , like a _goddamn_ lovesick _fool_. I tried calling and calling and calling - ''

''I know! I _know_ , okay? I know. I'm _sorry_. I - I panicked. I acted like a fucking idiot, like, like a blithering dumbass. Okay? You didn't deserve that, certainly not right after - '' Stiles runs his fingers through his hair in agitation. ''I fucked up. I fucked up, and I'm sorry.''

There's a quiet minute, and then Derek shifts, holding his hand out to Stiles. His fingers brush against the cold skin of his arm, trailing it down to the man's hand. Gently, he pries the clutching fingers open, and twines their hands together.

''Okay,'' he says quietly. ''Okay,'' he repeats, and the scent of relief fills the air, Stiles slumping against the mattress.

''Thank God,'' Stiles whispers. He brings the hands up to his lips, staring Derek straight in the eyes as he kisses Derek's knuckles softly. ''I'm really sorry. I won't - I won't shut you out again.''

Derek flushes, warmth creeping to his face at the tender act. He scowls to hide his embarrassment and pleasure, but by the look Stiles gives him, the vampire knows it anyway.

''I'm still hurt,'' he warns, and Stiles nods emphatically, eyes wide. ''I'm hurt, but. . But I guess I see where you're coming from. I'm not. . . It's not pretty. My skin,'' he clarifies. ''It's marred and uneven, dark and light and pink and ugh. I don't want to talk about what happened or how I got my scars. Maybe one day, but. . .Not now.''

''One day,'' Stiles echoes.

They let silence fall over comfortably, Stiles stroking Derek's hand soothingly. The book Derek had been reading has fallen shut, and he doesn't know which page he was on, but he doesn't really care. Not when he has Stiles' undivided attention again.

Stiles breaks their companionable quiet and says, ''Well. I have some serious crawling to do to get back in your good graces so. How about B99 marathon in my room? I'll hand feed you popcorn and massage your feet.''

Derek grins shyly. ''Deal.''

 

\----

 

It's two weeks since Jackson assault, on the night of the full moon, when John calls the human into his office. Soon the whole orphanage hears about his transfer, and when Jackson passes Derek on the hallway, Derek can help but smile smugly at him. The human scowls in response, a small smirk playing on his lips.

Derek walks off without saying a word.

The next day, Derek can hear Stiles' heartbeat, see the flush of his skin and feel the warmth of it underneath his fingers when he hugs the vampire. The smell of blood and terror lingers on Stiles' skin. He revels in it, sniffing it loudly and making Stiles laugh delightedly.

Derek gets his own special steak when they have burgers that evening. He wolfs it down with gusto.

 

\---

 

It's early morning, frost clinging to grass and winter slowly approaching, and Derek is laying on his bed tiredly. Contemplating whether or not to get up, he burrows deeper into his blankets. He can hear Isaac quietly playing on his gameboy, the small buttons making sounds when he taps at them. Erica is half naked, fresh out of shower, probably looking for her bra if her naked breasts hanging loose are anything to go by. Boyd feigns sleep, but Derek knows he's awake.

The familiar footsteps running through the hall makes him frown. Usually Stiles lazes in bed until way late, his online college courses allowing him to do his coursework whenever he pleases. And mostly Stiles pleases to sleep.

He rises into a sitting position just as Stiles bursts into the room.

''Derek!''

Erica squawks, covering her breasts. She hisses a furious, ''Stilinski!''

Stiles ignores her in favour of running to Derek's bed, hands gripping the edges of his top bunk bed. Derek's about to ask what's wrong, when Stiles beats him to it. ''Someone wants to adopt you!''

Dread curls in his stomach at the words. His eyes widen in fear, echoing Stiles' own expression.

''Wh - '' he tries, but his throat has dried up. He clears it, rubbing his neck. ''What? Why. I mean. Why me?''

Stiles shakes his head frantically. ''I don't know. Dad says she sounded genuine, if a little young on the phone, and that she says she's a family friend of yours, that she's been looking for you for a long time.''

He frowns. Nobody came looking for him and Laura when they were in the ruins of their life. The allied packs all turned their backs when they heard. The Hale's were no longer prestigious and strong, so they weren't obligated to help a weak a pack. A destroyed pack. He heard from the pack in north that steered him towards the Stilinski's that no-one had turned in the Hale family's funeral. The town had paid for it, and held it, but in attendance were mostly officials.

Suspicion hits him then, something nagging at him at the back of his mind. Like alarm bells, his first instinct is to raise his hackles and bare his teeth. He doesn't, but it's a near thing. He stammers, ''I don't - I - ''

''Look,'' Stiles says, a determined glint in his eyes. ''Have a meeting with us. Dad and me and the lady. Worst case scenario, she's wrong and won't take you after all. Best case scenario if she does know you and you end up going with her, you'd be getting your life back. Be happy. We can still keep in contact even if you leave, text and skype and stuff. Maybe you'll even move somewhere near Beacon Hills!''

''But I'm happy here,'' Derek whispers.

Stiles eyes go comically wide, and then Derek's having an armful of Stilinski scrambling up onto his lap.

''I know,'' the man says, voice muffled against Derek's front. ''I'm sorry. But you have to. You know, maybe she's great and all? Maybe you'll get a piece of your family back.''

''You're my family,'' he argues stubbornly, but slumps in defeat. The Stilinski's are pigheaded when they want, and the rules of the Orphanage demand that he meet his possible future guardian if they so present. It's mandatory for all kids to at least have one meeting, and if both sides don't feel positive about it, nobody is forced to leave.

In fact, every single kid has a price. Since the upkeep costs and it's not like the government funds all of their expensive stuff, John Stilinski makes twenty percent off of sponsors, and the rest eighty percent are the prices the new parents pay for their adopted kid.

Derek's seen his worth, though accidentally. And it's a lot.

''Alright,'' he whispers, even though his mind is screaming at him to not go. ''Alright,'' he repeats, and he's not sure who he's trying to convince here. Him or Stiles.

 

\---

 

The meeting room is small and cozy. John Stilinski is already seated at one of the sofas scattered around when Stiles and Derek stumble in.

John is one of the most steadfast and down-to-earth person he's ever met. Apparently, before he was bitten, he used to be a small town sheriff, some couple hundred years ago. Derek guesses murdering people for food tampers with the lines of good and bad enough to resign.

How he ended up owning an orphanage and harvesting some of the kids for a snack, he'll probably never find out.

The man offers a small smile. ''Derek. Good to see you son.''

The word makes him wince, so different from when his father used to call him that, yet heart warming all the same. It feels a little like he's betraying his own dad for liking it when John says it. But he thinks his father would like to have something good out of the miserable life Derek has, so he shoves the guilt down. He nods.

Stiles steers him onto one of the sofas. He sits down, and the vampire plops down next to him, jittery with nerves. He lays a hand on his leg to stop the movement, and Stiles gives him a wincing grin.

John clears his throat. ''So, Derek. As you know, you've been here with us for almost eight months now. How have you settled in so far?''

Derek shrugs. ''I'm good.''

John nods appreciatively. ''That's good. We always want to ensure everyone is treated equally and feel safe within our premises.'' He pauses, assessing gaze looking Derek up and down. ''Now, son, I don't want you to take this in a bad way, but before the adoption process can actually progress any further than this interview, we'd like to have you talking to a specialist.''

Derek tenses, staring at the older Stilinski with wide eyes. The vampire lifts his hands up in a placating manner. ''It's alright. It's nothing serious. I know you haven't talked about your past at all, but in the recent weeks, I've been notified of some of your. . Eccentricities and the marks on your body. We'd like to have you talk to someone about it professionally, to ensure you're as healthy as can be.''

Clenching his jaw, Derek asks, ''Is this mandatory?''

Sighing, John nods. ''I know it must be tough. But your future guardians must be notified, and if you require further therapy or medication, all of those costs must be covered by your new family.''

At that, Derek snorts. ''Yeah, well. Medication doesn't exactly work for me.''

''I'm sure you might feel that way, but behavioral therapy is a viable option if the thought of medication might be troubling for you.''

Shaking his head, Derek says, ''No, I mean. Medication doesn't work on me period. My metabolism is too fast. The same way Stiles' Adderall doesn't actually work for him.''

''What, no, it totally works,'' Stiles protests, frowning at him. Derek lifts an eyebrow. ''You don't even have a heartbeat, let alone a bloodstream to back that up. It's not like you can actually digest it, right?''

The temperature drops in the room considerably. John's earlier relaxed position has changed, tension rifling through his body. He becomes rather menacing, and Derek has already forgotten how scary vampires can actually be when they want to be.

''Excuse me?''

Even Stiles has jumped off the sofa and backed up a few steps. ''Of course I have a heartbeat. I'm human.''

''Oh my God,'' Derek groans. ''You _really_ don't know?''

''Know what?'' John says sharply, his teeth starting to take a rather sharp shape.

''I'm a werewolf,'' Derek blurts, ''And I know you're vampires. It's not like it's hard to add no heartbeat, cold skin and transferring kids aka feeding time for you, which when you get both your heartbeat and your skin warms up. I mean,'' he shrugs helplessly. ''I don't really care that you kill those people, if that helps? But like I said. Werewolf here. Kind of hard to hide anything from me.''

 _''Bullshit,''_ Stiles snarls. ''You don't act like a werewolf. If you are one, then shift right now to prove it.''

Derek hesitates, and Stiles takes a menacing step closer, shouting, _''Prove it!''_

_''I can't!''_

''What do you mean you can't?'' Stiles snarls, his teeth now long and his eyes glowing. ''I swear to god, if you don't shift right the fuck now I'm going to fucking shred you to pieces.''

Whining, Derek shakes his head and murmurs, ''I can't.''

''Derek - ''

''Stiles, son. Calm down.''

Stiles takes an incredulous look at his father, who is no longer shifted, and is back to his relaxed position. ''Calm down. Let Derek explain. It's not like he's able to get out of this room with the two of us here. Just sit down, okay?''

''But -''

''Sit down.''

Stiles does, though he sits on a different sofa than where Derek is sitting. It hurts, but he thinks he can bear this hurt if it means he can explain some things to the Stilinskis. He's liked his time here, and he doesn't want it to end only because he fucked up. He's fucked up enough for a lifetime.

He sucks in a breath and says, ''I'm a werewolf. My name is Derek Hale.''

Both Stilinski's jerk at the surname, and Stiles blurts out a shocked, ''Hale? You mean _Hale_ as in the slaughtered pack that was _The Hales_? Talia Hale's son?''

Derek nods mutely. He hasn't heard anyone say his mother's name for years. It fills him with grief and aching in his chest, and he brings a hand to rub the skin over his breast bone.

''I met Kate when I was fourteen,'' he starts, ''She uh. She used be our substitute teacher at my school. She knew who I was since the beginning, but I had no idea. She, she talked to me a lot, when I was lonely, always touching, reassuring. Making sure I knew I could come talk to her anytime. And things at home were a little rough then, with Uncle Peter having his first daughter and my mom being pregnant and. . . I felt left out.''

He shrugs, feeling a little numb. ''So I complained to Kate about my family, about how stupid it was to always be the middle kid. She ate it all up, listening to me talk and stuff. She started asking questions about them, about the house and the area surrounding it. But she was good, you know? Knew how to phrase things that didn't make it seem like she was fishing information. And then, a year or so later, just when I was shy of fifteen, she sent me a text to meet me at school. She deliberately separated me from my pack because she wanted me alive. Then she hired some thugs, blocked our house's entrances and burned the damn thing down with everyone inside.''

_''Derek.''_

''I was an idiot. I believed her, believed in her lies. Let her comfort me, use me, make her. . Make her feel good. I wasn't, I didn't - I always said no, but. She was persuasive. And then, when I felt my pack die, she snagged me up form the school's parking lot and I've been her favourite toy ever since.''

''Jesus. _Jesus_. Just. Holy shit. But - '' Stiles frowns, slowly rising from the sofa he was sitting on and levels himself next to Derek. He looks at Derek's stomach, the shirt that hides all the marred skin underneath. ''But werewolves don't scar,'' he whispers.

Derek snorts weakly. ''They do. Beat one up often enough, starve them, electrocute them, stuff their drinks with wolfsbane and mentally defeat them, the wolf starts to recede and out metabolism fucks everything up. Nothing heals properly, but they don't _not_ heal enough that I'd die. And I was with her for over a year and. . . A lot can be squeezed into such time frame.''

''Jesus,'' John swears, his eyes having taken a glassy tint. ''Jesus. You're one tough cookie, son.''

''But why can't you shift?'' Stiles asks, and the vampire has obviously abandoned the idea of killing Derek, pressing close to him in an attempt to comfort. Derek's too tired to be distressed though. The months he'd been with Kate all blur together, and he doesn't have the emotional capability to feel more than detachment over the issue.

''There's. . There's a metal prod inside me. It crawls across my bones, so if I shift and the bones move, it electrocutes me. To a point of being half-dead, even to a werewolf. I know. I've tried a million times.''

There's not much anyone can really say to that. The rooms falls into a partly uncomfortable silence, though the rage and fury he can scent in the air are not his own.

''Well,'' Stiles says, eyes going black, ''If I ever get my hands on this Kate I'll be sure to say hi to her from you. And then make the exact same markings on her skin as are painted on yours.''

John nods, his eyes going the same liquid black. ''Yes. I think that would be a good idea, yes.''

''I don't think either of you are ever going to meet Kate Argent.''

''Argent?'' John asks, and suddenly he's blinking the oozing dark out of his eyes. ''Her brother Chris lives in the area. Though after his daughter disappeared, he stopped hunting altogether. He'd lost his wife to a werewolf bite years back, and losing his whole family seemed to be a breaking point to him.''

''Tell me about it,'' Derek bites out lowly. Stiles whines pathetically and clambers into Derek's lap, much like he did in the morning.

''You have me now,'' Stiles says with certainty. John stands up. ''I think I'm going to have to pay a visit to our dear friend. Make sure his sister is nowhere near Beacon Hills.''

Derek bops his head in agreement, but then frowns. ''Uh, sir?'' John turns to him. ''I thought we were supposed to have a meeting?''

''Oh yes! Right, absolutely. I already forgot about our visitor. She should, hm.'' He looks at his watch. ''Be here any minute now.''

There's a knock on the door immediately as he finishes his sentence, and he lets out a bright grin. ''You ready?''

Derek is anything but, but he concedes anyway. He regrets it immediately when he sees who's behind the door.

Kate's long mud blonde locks are as impeccable as ever, her smile bright and predatory. She shakes hands with John and introduces herself as Therine Silver. And though she's talking to John, her eyes never leave Derek's.

''Sweetheart! Oh, I've missed you _so much,_ Derek.''

Derek's frozen on the spot, eyes unable to leave her. She doesn't look any different. Her scent is pleased but angry, no doubt because of his escape, but pleased that she got to play a game that she's about to really fucking win. If she gets him out of here, away from the safety of Stiles and John, he's never going to see daylight again.

Unable to suppress it, his whole body starts to tremble in terror. She sees it, and her joy amplifies. She's always taken intricate pleasure at making him suffer. Watching him as multiple thugs of hers rape him, when she whips him until he bleeds, the burning, the electrocuting, her mouth on his body, the way she forced him into taking her, tortured him -

''Derek?''

His vision is suddenly blocked by Stiles, his concerned face staring into his. ''Derek, you okay?''

He shakes himself out of the memories and desperately grabs at Stiles' arms. ''Kate,'' he whispers, ''She's _Kate._ She's here. Please - I don't -''

Stiles rounds away from him, his movements quick and agile when he ducks behind the woman, forcing both of her hands behind her back and one clawed hand around her throat. ''Hello, Katherine Argent,'' he purrs into her ear. ''Fancy seeing you in our humble adobe.''

John looks alarmed. ''Katherine Argent?'' Stiles nods, and John's expression turns stormy. ''You mean I have let a hunter within our premises.'' He tsks. ''Now that won't do.''

''What -'' Kate starts, until she sees John's eyes change to all black. She hisses. _''Vampires._ Of course. Endless supply of fresh blood when you got all the lost and unwanted kids in one place,'' she spits. ''How despicable.''

''What's despicable here,'' John says pleasantly, examining his wicked sharp fingernails. ''Are your actions towards the supernatural community. You have murdered hundreds of innocent beings for who they are and what they represent. You haven't touched any of mine, which in our Vampire culture makes me mostly just ignore your presence, but. . But I have obtained a reason as of five minutes ago.''

Kate smirks. ''And what would that be? That I'm a hunter that hunts your disgusting murdering asses? That makes you a hypocrite.''

John smiles. It's not a pleasant one. Stiles tightens his hold on her and even he is grinning. Derek has no idea what's going on, but he trusts these two people, dear God he does, and so he stays frozen on the spot.

''My reason is him,'' John nods at Derek. When Kate's eyes wonder to him, he flinches and lowers his gaze. John huffs sympathetically, and forces Kate's head back to himself.

''You've taken an innocent child from his home, murdered his family, tortured, abused and raped him over and over. To have werewolf bear so many scars as he does is an abomination. You humans are disgusting with your wars and genocide and racism. Your bloodlust is higher than an animal's, your morals are none and you, good lady, have severely crossed a line the very first time you brought death to an innocent.''

''Says a vampire,'' she hisses, ''You've killed thousands of kids just to feed yourself. How does that make you any better than me, huh?''

''The kids I kill to feed myself and my family are mostly better off dead. Who am I to judge? I don't know. There is no God, or Hell. There is only life and the ones we take it away from, but I kill my victims swiftly and painlessly. And not that it's any of your business, but we actually rarely eat the children here. We feed on criminals and people who willingly want to die or sacrifice themselves to a vampire. So what if I'm not morally black and white? Doesn't mean I don't have some morals. Unlike you.''

John nods at his son and Stiles grins. ''Well, pops. I think we got this month's grocery meat in advance!''

The older Stilinski chuckles. ''Indeed. Though we have to make her extremely ripe and tender. That'll take some time. . .''

Stiles shrugs, and licks the side of Kate's neck. ''A good meal is worth the wait,'' he breathes. Kate shudders, her face having gone pale the more John had spoken.

''You cannot keep me here,'' she says furiously, ''People will come look for me. You might as well be dead already.''

''Oh sweetheart,'' Stiles grins ferally, ''We already are dead. Nobody won't even know where to look for you after we're done with you, so.'' He drags the squirming woman with him, pushing open a door Derek hadn't been even aware of. ''This way,'' he nods to Derek, and he follows. John comes behind him, locking the door after everyone's passed through.

There's a long dim lit hallway with stairs that don't seem to end at all. The place is clearly sound proofed even for Derek, because the usual sounds of the house die with the closing of the door and there's only the heavy breathing of people and Kate's curses and promises echoing the walls.

The stairs end somewhere deep underneath the ground and the mansion to another door. John comes around Derek and his son, opening the door with his claws. The heavy metal squeaks and screeches, and then the entrance appears. John is the first to cross, and then Derek, Stiles and Kate keeping the rear. When Derek steps in, he freezes.

The whole place smells like blood, terror and death. There are torture implements all over the big cement chambers, brown stains on the floor under one of the tables. There are hooks and sharp looking saws, cattle prods, several different knives, needles and what looks like small tubes meant for blood transfer. One of the walls have been filled with battery cage, shackles and other implements hung on it. There's a metal chair with thick leather straps, as is on the table.

There are shelves filled with liquids and what look like human body parts, brain, fingers, eyeballs. There is also a freezer that Derek can see through, and there are several frozen meats bound up and hung from metal hooks on the ceiling, and a couple heads tossed onto 'trash' pile near one corner.

Jackson's head is in there.

A nervous, manic kind of laughter bubbles onto surface, and Derek can't suppress it. He's way out of his head, but oddly, doesn't feel scared. He knows some of these devices intimately, like the electric chair and the bull whips. Heck, once Kate ripped all of his teeth out of his mouth just to see if they grew back.

They did, but it took three long months.

Stiles looks at him in concern when he passes him with Kate, but doesn't say anything. Instead the drags Kate to one of the most dirtiest tables and straps her down. Satisfied that she can't get out, he ignores her hissing and spitting and comes to Derek.

''Dude, if this is too much, you can leave. We're gonna take some time with her today, okay? And I don't know if you want to see that. But just know this,'' Stiles says, and rubs his hands up and down Derek's arms. ''She can never hurt you anymore. You're safe. Depending how much time we want to spend with her, she's going to be dead within the next three months.''

They both ignore Kate's screech of 'three months!?' and Derek shakes his head. ''I want to see. I want her to suffer the way I did. She - She once ripped all of my teeth out of my mouth to see if they grew back,'' he admits lowly. He shudders, and then Stiles pulls him into a hug.

''Hey now. She's gonna suffer, okay? At the end of this, she's going to be begging to be killed, to plead for forgiveness. But she won't get what she wants. She's just going to have to make do with what we give her.'' He's quiet for a long minute before he ducks his head to meet with Derek's eyes. ''Is there something you want done to her? Or do you want to hurt her yourself? You can you know. Hell, dad's so fucking furious he's probably gonna let me start or he's gonna kill her too early. You know?''

Derek nods. ''There's not much. If you can, you know, shove something through her vagina or ass or whatever like she did to me, I'd be happy to hear her scream in agony. If you want, you can totally cut her tongue out. Or her teeth. I don't care. Just. Just make her suffer a lot, is all I'm asking.''

''Of course,'' Stiles says, and kisses his temple. ''Anything for my boo.''

Derek groans. ''Oh my God, stop saying that! I'm not your boo or whatever. I'm your boyfriend or I'm your Derek. That's it.''

''How about you're my love? Munchkin? Sunshine?'' Stiles grins. Derek rolls his eyes. ''O ha-ha. Very funny.''

Then Stiles sobers up, his grin disappearing. ''Are there names you don't like to be called?'' He glances towards Kate and then back to Derek.

Swallowing, he nods to the vampire. ''Sweetheart. Pet. Sweetie. Honey. Those are all - ''

''Yeah, I get it. You don't have to explain it to me. Those names have been filed away and never to be used again. Got it. Now,'' he says, turning towards the woman fighting her bonds. ''It's fun times. Heey, Katie kate. You like our little playroom here, huh?''

Stiles leers at the woman, coming closer to her. John had disappeared earlier but now he comes back with a small knife and a jar of salt. On the table there's a rusted needle and a small taser. John settles the objects near the two items and grins rather wolfishly. ''You want to start, son?''

Cheering, Stiles jumps up and down. ''Hell yes! Derek, if you'd like, there are several soft chairs right behind that door,'' Stiles points to a wooden door on the opposite corner of the freezer. ''You can take one and bring it here, make yourself comfortable.''

Derek nods and goes on search for the furniture. This is a show he wouldn't miss for the world.

Stiles starts rather easy. He coos at her, making small cuts on her skin, licking the blood drops away. ''Better not waste food,'' he laughs delightedly, and rubs salt on every single stroke of his knife. Kate grits her teeth and doesn't scream.

Not yet, anyway.

''Aww, come on Katie. I'm so sure there's a ton of stuff you'd like to say. How about. . We play truth or dare?''

Kate side eyes him. She's flushed, sweat pooling on her skin as she grits her teeth against the pain. Derek wonders how Kate always to perverse pleasure in seeing him hurt, but having Kate here now, in the mercy of Stiles, makes him giddy. Kate was driven by her twisted sense of lust and greed, her enjoyment of seeing people in agonizing pain.

Derek doesn't feel that, is sure he would never have wanted Jackson to face a tortured death penalty like this, but. Kate is his worst nightmare. His abuser and kidnapper, the murderer of his family.

She deserves this.

''I think,'' he starts roughly, ''That's a good idea, Kate. Play a good game and face the consequences if you lose.''

''There's not much of a game if I don't have anything to gain, sweetheart,'' she snarls. Stiles plunges the knife a little too deep in her thigh and she yelps. He tsks, ''Don't talk to Derek. And if you do, you're only allowed to call him Sir. That's it. Nothing else.''

He twists the knife to make his point across, and Kate agrees quickly. She grits, ''Fine. But if I win, you have to promise to let me go. Fair and square.''

''Okay,'' Stiles says flippantly, and jerks the knife away. He scoops some of the blood and licks it, smirking. ''Deal. We play a game of truth or dare and if you win, we let you go. If you lose. . . Well. I have it on good authority that we have very hospitable accommodations. For free even!''

Stiles cackles at his own joke, and then brings the salt again on Kate's thigh wound. ''Alright Derek,'' he grins, ''You're our game host. You ask Truth or Dare, and then whatever we choose, you make up the questions and the dares. Capiche?''

''Sure.''

''Okie dokie. Katie cat. You ready?''

''Fuck you.''

''She's ready! Okay Derek. Ask me first!''

''Stiles, truth or dare?''

''Ooh,'' Stiles hems and haws for a moment. ''I'll go with dare.''

Derek smirks. ''I dare you to take Kate's jeans off.''

''Easy peasy. Here I go.''

Kate struggles, her eyes burning with anger. ''Don't fucking touch me.''

Stiles blinks at the woman innocently. ''It's the spirit of the game, right? I gotta do it. Otherwise you'll lose, sweetcheeks.''

Kate struggles, but deflates after a moment. ''Fine,'' she grits out. The vampire smirks and starts cutting her jeans off, not careful at all of not cutting her skin. When the garment is off, she's left in her blouse and panties. They're the ones she always used when she wanted to make him suffer, to shove a metal pipe up his ass to rub at his prostate, forcing him hard when she rode him. They're latex and red, and they smelled foul.

''That wasn't so hard now, was it?'' Kate glares at Stiles. The man laughs.

''Kate, truth or dare?''

''Truth.''

''Derek thinks this for a moment, and then asks, ''Was I the only underage person you've ever raped?''

''No,'' Kate answers, and Derek digs his blunt fingernails against the cushions. ''Stiles,'' he bites out, ''Truth or dare?''

''Aw, I really like dares. I'll go with dare.''

He takes a look around the room, surveying the devices. Then he points to the metal pipe with a flattened end and the flamethrower in the corner. His eyes widen into a wolfish grin as he says, ''Burn the word 'sweetheart' onto her skin.''

 

\---

 

The screams of Kate that echoed in the chambers are forever filed into Derek's brain. He revels in them, even his nightmares turning against Kate and making her the victim instead of him. He rumbles in his chest appreciatively.

''Whatcha purring about?'' Stiles murmurs lazily. He's spread next to Derek in Stiles' bed, his fingers chasing gentle circles onto his skin.

''Thinking about yesterday.''

They had spent an hour playing the game, until Kate had passed out, much to the disappointment of everyone. They'd left her naked on the table, still strapped in. John had promised to go see her in the morning, but until then, she was left to her own devices. The night had gone well without any complications, Stiles taking Derek to his room where they talked until they too, passed out.

''Mmm. That was fun.''

Derek sighs. He turns to face the vampire and scoops him into his embrace. Stiles makes a happy little sound and snuggles closer. ''It was fun, except for, you know,'' Stiles murmurs, ''The panic attack and the bad memories and stuff. Also, sorry I threatened to shred you to pieces. I promise I will never do that. I - I - I love you.''

A small, soft smile spreads onto Derek's face. ''I love you too.''

''And it's totally cool if you never wanna talk what happened with Kate, you know? I get that you'd be ace after that.''

Frowning, Derek shakes his head. ''I was asexual already before that. I mean, I had an inkling but I didn't know how to put it to words back then. And what Kate did just reinforced that belief that sex wasn't for me. Although,'' he adds, a mischievous grin melting the softness. ''You can jerk off all you want. I know you can't do it without feeding first. But you have no idea how flustered and content you look after you've fed and then jerked yourself off to multiple orgasms.''

''Oh my God,'' Stiles mutter, mortification twirling in his scent. ''You could smell and hear all that?''

''Oh yeah,'' Derek says smugly. ''You stumbling to make excuses to go beat it in your room was adorable. You're adorable.''

''Shut up,'' Stiles hisses, blushing if he had had the blood in his system. ''I'll show you adorable.'' He bares his teeth in a poor imitation of a wolf and it makes Derek chuckle heartily.

They stay cuddle close together for another few minutes before Stiles suggests, ''Wanna go eat breakfast and then go play with Kate?''

''Deal.''

  
\---

  
Epilogue.

  
There's a shipment of new kids again, this time from a family that had held ten children between wife and his abusive husband. The woman had killed the man and then herself, leaving all ten kids to fend for themselves with no income, no heritage and no house. The sheriff of the small town had immediately thrown the kids into a bus and driven the car over to the orphanage himself.

Of all the kids, Theo is the one that sticks out like a sore thumb. He catches Derek's eye almost instantly, his innocent facade crumbling when Derek can scent his real emotions. On the course of the next few weeks, Derek discovers that not only is Theo not innocent, he's actually killed multiple children in their old neighborhood. He's as rotten to the core as a wendigo, and when he tries to manipulate Stiles into leaving Derek and to take Theo under his wing instead, Derek draws the line.

Together they play the game Theo wants, letting him believe that the two of them are arguing over him. That Stiles wants to take Theo under his care while Derek tries to convince him that the kid is just manipulating him, trying to work himself closer the the Stilinski's to get part of the money the orphanage has, as well as protection and alibis when the kid goes into town and returns with killed animals on his trail.

When Theo is just about to think he's got Stiles' love and protection, the vampire gleefully brings him to the playroom.

Theo's eyes widen when he takes the room in, his scent plummeting from smug to terrified. The room hasn't changed in all these years Derek's now been with Stiles and John, though they got their own apartment near the orphanage a few years back. They still come visit daily, Stiles doing online consulting and Derek drafting novels in his spare time.

The same torture tools are still in place, though Derek's been cleaning the place sometimes. There are still questionable stains all over the floor and table and chair, as well as on some of the devices hanging on the shelves.

The thing Derek's the most proud of, the thing that catches everyone's eye in the room, is the preserved head of Katherine Argent stapled onto the wall. Her face is twisted in her last scream of agony, all of her teeth missing.

Stiles turns to Theo with a wide smile. ''Shall we play a little game of Truth or Dare?''

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
